self destruction
by Einzelfall
Summary: Safety was only an illusion that they wanted to maintain. A feeling that never really existed, an unattainable hope. Deals with self-harm, Sam-centric, more hurt than comfort, episode-tag: 'the devil in the details' (11x10)
Hy guys, english isn't my first language but my beta-reader corrected the most mistakes :) If you still find anything, pls tell me
It is really not easy to write about such a subject and I want to improve my writing skills, so please review an tell me what you think.

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To be honest he wasn't aware of why he did this. Their lives had never been "normal" or "easy" and he couldn't even really remember the last time he had felt really good, even though of course there were days when something good happened or he could laugh honestly, but most time he only felt sorrow, rage or exhaustion.  
And the last days had been bad, really bad. Apparently he had had to meet Lucifer again, although he had hoped he could banish him from his mind someday. Memories of how he had tried to repress all the hallucinations and emotions, the torture he had had to get through.

Nick was his name, Nick, a man with bright blue eyes and blond hair, who became possessed by the fallen archangel and was just known as Lucifer today, the devil. And the Cage, the place where he had spent more than a hundred years, where he had had to endure pure hate, and pain that no words could make comprehensible, where Lucifer should remain in eternity, that was where he should return to.  
God himself had sent him signs, signs that said he should return to his fallen son who was the only one who could beat the darkness, even if he wanted to bring darkness over humanity itself. God himself, who should provide peace, love and forgiveness. Or so he thought.

So he had returned to Lucifer, to the cage he had spent centuries in. Actually it wasn't _the_ cage, because _the_ cage was a place he could change and manipulate as he wanted. He and Michael had experienced pain, emotions of sorrow and desperation, fears and anxiety. Fears he would never have expected. In the beginning he had been able to sense them, all the feelings he did not seem to be able to control, like his current emotions that he hardly dared to speak about.

And some time later, maybe a thousand years later, they had shut them down, they had started to study the cage, to investigate it, tried to understand it and to learn. Soon he didn't feel what they felt anymore, except for the hate they took out on him. Indescribable rage, playfully shown in scenarios that could be compared with the brutality of Snuff films. Situations that he deliberately wanted to suppress.

But physical pain was not as bad as the emotional. The psychological burden that he had endured, still had to, laid on him with a heaviness he couldn't describe even if he wanted to. But what was his right to judge when there were people dying although they wanted a life, even if they didn't know about the evil in the dark. People with families that loved and were loved, people who were torn from the world no matter how hard they fought for their lives.

He wished he had enough strength to care for these people, at least for Dean. Dean who had voluntarily gone to the demons. He barely spoke about the souls he had tortured in hell and Sam was sure that he was still suffering from that. He himself had no reason to complain. He had never needed, neither voluntarily nor forced, to harm another soul and the fear he went through, Dean also had to experience himself.

Still, he wanted to do something, anything, to reduce these emotions. When he had been hallucinating about Lucifer, he had pressed against the slowly healing wound on his hand. At first it was easy, the wound was sore and painful, but with time it had healed.  
The psychosis stopped eventually, thanks to Cas. But he couldn't help himself, the urge to hurt himself was too strong. There was pain in his chest, it was too heavy to breathe, he only got the oncoming sense of panic. Should he have let Dean or Cas know? What could they have done when they got their own burden, who was he to presume to put them in this situation?

No, he had had worse before, he was free and Lucifer was back in his cage without a chance to get out. Besides, his method worked somehow. The burning, the blood, the pain that dragged through his arm let him breathe again, calmed him down. It looked bad, scars would remain, more noticeable than the scars they had gotten from hunting.  
The only problem was, if you once started it, it was difficult to stop. First he hadn't felt anything and so he pulled it again and again and again across his arm, some fine and small and some thick and wide lines. Red tears that dared to arise after he intensified the pressure. Tears he would not shed himself, not any more.

Eventually he knew how stupid this was. Should it really heal well enough one day that there would be only pale, almost invisible small lines left, then he had to hide his shame until then. No chance that Dean wouldn't blame himself if he saw this. This was his own responsibility.  
But it was too late, he had made his decision, the wounds would heal and leave visible scars and express his vulnerability. Vulnerability that he could no longer hide, and maybe it would impair him and his brother if their enemies knew about it.

Safety was only an illusion that they wanted to maintain. A feeling that never really existed, an unattainable hope.

How should Dean still believe in him if he knew what his thoughts made him feel. All the hate he aimed at himself, that he believed to deserve. He could imagine how disappointed Dean would look at him.

That was why he needed to keep it to himself, throw the bloody towels away, cover the scars and hide the razors. As if nothing happened.

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I'm working on a continuation, but I will let this leave as an one-shot ;)  
Have a nice day


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